"I'm not going to spend a penny on you anymore, you know that." Father's irritated call almost makes me jump outta my skin. "You wanted to do this, and it's your responsibility." He finishes, leaving the conference room, while I sit here, my throat heavy, and my eyes mildly misty.Men don't cry. Men don't cry. Men don't cry.Everyone, every damn person I've met, thinks I'm this big, bold guy who knows what he's doing, where he's going, and has all the support he needs. And none of it is true.But I do know what I want: To be the founder and CEO of a Tutoring Agency. Yeah, it's a dumb aim, and there's no such thing. But I'm doing it for her...Her...Thoughts of her make me tear up again. Dammit.Why am I so weak?I get up and pace the room, adjusting the cuff of my blazer, and tugging hard at its two buttons."Master Blake?" An employee at the office makes me halt. "Mr. Arthur, he-""Wants me out the door?" My half-broken voice interrupts.He nods. Of course, he wants to get rid of me. He always has. I clear my throat – I have to keep my mask up."Tell him I got out, thanks." I flash him my usual convincing smile.Well, there's no time for emotions now, I've a Tutor-Training Agency to run, as dumb as that sounds. I do hope I get people who want to tutor actual stuff, not singing or dancing or anything like that.Walking out of Father's office, seeing everyone stare at me like I'm some brutally wounded military man, and seeing Father in his glass-walled cabin, interviewing people who according to him, have potential. That just makes me slip out of the mask, again.But no.I'm Blake Arthur, the cold, brave young man who's always confident and knows exactly what he wants. I can't let my façade falter, no matter how broken I am.I fix my tie and my hair, and go to the penthouse in an Uber since my father refuses to lend his drivers to me.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Anyone new who applied today?" I asked Josh, my neighbor, who surprisingly agreed to help me with this 'project'."Yeah man, a girl about uh...your shoulder's height, I guess? Black hair and a white top, looked cute. She gave her name but wanted to talk to you before she started." He replies, 'usefully'."Talk to me?" I ask, sitting beside him.He nods."Why does the girl want to talk to me?""I dunno man, but if things work out with her, you just bagged yourself a fine one." He grins. I nudge his elbow hard, but probably not enough to fix his scatterbrained head. "Shut up. Do you have her number?" I ask him, taking out my phone."Oh?" He lifts an eyebrow, and I feel like smashing his stupid smile out of his face. "In that registration notebook.""Right." I take the notebook and flip the pages to today's date. "Can I get a 'thank you'?" He opens his dumb mouth again and shuts it as I shoot him a glare.Hmm...Seems like this girl is the only one who enrolled today-Wait. No darn way."Flowers?" A whisper of her nickname in awe escapes my lips, as I run my finger across the name 'Ashley Behrman' on the top of the page.Ha.The handwriting's still crappy. And she wants to meet me, is it?This should be fun.